


Delightful Madness

by suckerfordeansfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cas calls Dean "his lovely little slut" once, Dick Pics, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Gentle Dom Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Sexting, Soft Castiel (Supernatural), Soft Porn, Teasing, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, if that bothers you please be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerfordeansfreckles/pseuds/suckerfordeansfreckles
Summary: Dean wakes up to his phone vibrating on his nightstand once, twice.Cas: Good morning, DeanCas: imageDean blinks his eyes open a few times before he clicks the image, and then promptly almost drops his phone on his face.It’s a picture of Cas in their bed, sheets pooling around his thick thighs — but above the sheets, there’s nothing but tan, naked, glorious skin.Cas is flushed and hard against his stomach, the fingers of his left hand barely grazing his dick.





	Delightful Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so basically this is just self-indulgence and a bunch of really soft porn lol
> 
> Big big thank yous to [shark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish) and [casbean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean) <33 Thank you guys for all your help and for cheering me on!!!!!! Ily

Dean wakes up to his phone vibrating on his nightstand once, twice.

 

**Cas:** Good morning, Dean

 

**Cas:** image

 

Dean blinks his eyes open a few times before he clicks the image, and then promptly almost drops his phone on his face.

 

It’s a picture of Cas in their bed, sheets pooling around his thick thighs — but above the sheets, there’s nothing but tan, naked, glorious skin. 

 

Cas is flushed and hard against his stomach, the fingers of his left hand barely grazing his dick. 

 

Dean can just imagine how, with three or four careful strokes, he’d have Cas leaking precome for him. He’d have Cas’ stomach tensing, his mouth going slack.

 

And up there, in the corner of the image and right next to Cas’ shoulder, is Dean’s face; asleep and smashed into a pillow. Goddammit.

 

**Cas:** You missed quite a lot of fun this morning

 

**Dean:** Fuck, Cas

 

**Dean:** Should have woken me up, you asshole

 

**Cas:** Touch yourself for me, but don’t come.

 

Dean groans, drops his phone to his chest and just breathes for a few seconds. He’s half-hard already, knows that if he just keeps looking, keeps imagining, it won’t take long until he’s flushed and leaking. 

 

His phone vibrates again, shakes on his chest, just as he sneaks a hand beneath the elastic band of his pyjama pants, fingers wandering down the trail of hair and towards where his cock is hot and needy. He wraps his fingers around the base of his dick, squeezes and teases a little, and grabs his phone with his other hand.

 

**Cas:** Oh, the things I’d do to you if I were with you right now

 

Dean’s head drops back against the pillow, and he squeezes his eyes shut and starts stroking himself — can’t help but stroke himself. His mind wanders back to Cas’ picture, to what he missed. 

 

How, if Cas had woken him up this morning, Dean could have climbed down between his thighs, could have kissed and licked him until he’s twitching and moaning, his breath heavy when his hands finally snake down and into Dean’s hair.

 

Fuck.

 

Dean’s already way too close, so he allows himself three more delicious, torturous strokes, and then pulls his hand back out of his pants. 

 

The way he’s tenting his pants now is obscene, but even more so is the wet spot already forming against the front.

 

**Dean:** God, Cas, I need you

 

**Dean:** Can’t wait til you get back home

 

They do this sometimes, when Cas feels like teasing Dean. He only initiates it on Dean’s days off, teases a little and then comes back home to fuck Dean into the mattress.

 

And Dean absolutely fucking loves it, every single part of it. Not touching himself for a few hours, or half a day, definitely doesn’t feel like too huge a chore when he knows what awaits him as soon as Cas shuts the door behind himself and drops his shoes and keys and trench coat.

 

**Cas:** Good boy.

 

Fuck, he can’t wait for later.

  
  
  


Dean’s doing laundry when his phone buzzes again. One look at the time and he realizes that Cas must be on break right now.

 

**Cas:** Did you touch yourself since this morning?

 

**Dean:** No

 

**Cas:** You’re so good for me. 

 

**Cas:** image

 

Fuck. Fuck. 

 

Dean rushes through dumping the laundry detergent in the machine and getting it started, and then barely manages to stumble towards their living room to slump down on the couch before opening the image.

 

It’s Cas, obviously. 

 

But it’s  _ Cas _ ; in his office, photographed from the waist upwards, wearing a white shirt, top two buttons unbuttoned, hair tousled, smiling brightly at the camera. 

 

**Dean:** God I love your smile

 

**Dean:** Did expect something different, though

 

Just the prospect of another deliciously inappropriate picture had Dean perking back up in his sweatpants. God, he’s such a slut for Cas.

 

**Cas:** You want something? Ask for it.

 

Dean’s breath stutters, and his hand shoots down to press against his dick through the soft fabric of his sweats. When he types, it’s with ridiculously shaky fingers.

 

**Dean:** I want your dick, please

 

**Cas:** So good for me

 

**Cas:** image

 

This one is more like what Dean expected. 

 

Cas is still in his office, sitting in his leather chair, but this picture is taken from the waist down.

 

Cas’ slacks are unbuttoned, unzipped, his dick already hard and red and leaking. He’s fucking gorgeous.

 

**Cas:** I can’t stop thinking about you today. Focussing on work is getting increasingly harder.

 

**Dean:** *Hard*, is it?

 

**Cas:** Shut up. I love you, and can’t wait to touch you.

 

**Dean:** Fuck, me neither baby

 

**Cas:** Will you be a good boy for me tonight? Think you can come on my fingers?

 

**Dean:** God yes, you know i can

 

**Cas:** Are you touching yourself?

 

**Dean:** Can i?

 

**Cas:** I want you to

 

Cas knows that Dean feels awkward taking pictures for him, which is why he never asks. Cas probably also knows that Dean loves sending them anyway, loves Cas’s answers, or the few rare times Cas can’t help but call Dean after Dean sent a picture. He’d groan into Dean’s ear, whisper to him about how beautiful he is, how gorgeous, how loved, how good.

 

Fuck, Dean loves when Cas tells him how good he is for him. Could probably come just from that. 

 

So he snaps a picture for Cas. His shirt is rucked-up, exposing his stomach and hips, and his sweatpants have been hastily shoved down to mid-thigh. His cock is resting against his stomach, rock-hard and pink already.

 

He sends it without checking twice, and then blinks his eyes shut and grazes his fingers up and down his length with a moan.

 

He’s throbbing, needing badly, and almost misses when his phone vibrates again. Or tries to miss, tries to bask in it a little longer, but —

 

**Cas:** Break’s over, hands off. You’ll get your reward when I get home.

 

**Cas:** I’ll get to leave early today, will be home in 3 hours. I want you naked on our bed

 

Dean takes a few very deep breaths before he texts back, shaking with need, with denied pleasure.

 

**Dean:** I can’t fucking wait for you

 

**Dean:** Love you

 

**Cas:** And I love you

 

Fuck, what’s Dean gonna do for the next three torturous hours?

  
  
  
  


Dean ends up not doing much but random chores; a little bit of laundry, the dishes, cleaning and organizing the fridge, vacuuming. And all of it half-hearted, his mind on things a hundred times more appealing than housework. 

 

Arousal comes and goes in waves, sometimes not bothering him at all, sometimes pulling him under until he can barely breathe. Until he sinks down somewhere and presses his hands against his cock, gasps for breath, gasps for Cas, gasps for anything Cas will give him.

 

Dean gets naked 20 minutes before Cas is supposed to be home, because he can’t focus on anything else but how good it all will be as soon as Cas’ hands are on him. He folds his clothes with shaking hands, puts them down on the chair next to the door, straightens the sheets and fluffs the pillows, and busies himself for as long as he can until he sinks down on their plush bed, naked and waiting and  _ so  _ ready.

 

When Cas finally,  _ finally  _ comes home, Dean listens as he drops his things by the door and trips through the hallway and into their bedroom faster than he ever has. 

 

From the sounds of it, he seems to stop in the doorway with a small sharp intake of breath. “You’re gorgeous,” Cas breathes, and then footsteps move closer until he must be standing behind Dean, watching him as he kneels, his naked ass resting on his crossed ankles. “God, you’re so good for me.”

 

And then, finally, a hand comes down, strokes down from his hip over his ass and to his thigh, and leaves goosebumps in its wake. Dean whimpers, shakes a little beneath Cas’ touch, but arches up into it nevertheless. “Cas,” he breathes, hands burying into the sheets. “Cas.”

 

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

 

“Just — please,” he stutters, eyes closed, head resting against the bed. “Please, want to kiss you.”

 

“My sweet boy, of course. Come up here, sit up for me,” Cas breathes, and Dean almost knocks Cas over in his haste to sit up and get into his arms. Once there, arms wrapped around Cas’ neck, he kisses him, hard and desperate. 

 

Cas’ fingers snake around his back, into his hair, holding him close and safe. He kisses back just as needy, lets Dean have whatever he needs, until the kiss turns softer, unhurried, less desperate. 

 

When Dean breaks away and buries his head in the crook of Cas’ neck, breathes against his skin, Cas says, “You’re already so far gone, aren’t you? Such a good boy, you’ve been waiting all day.”

 

His fingers dance over Dean’s back and for a while it feels like everything Dean could ever need. “Couldn’t wait for you to get your hands on me.”

 

“Yeah?” Cas mumbles, turning his head so he can press kisses against the side of Dean’s face.

 

“Yeah. Need you so bad.”

 

“Do you? My lovely little slut, you’ve been waiting long enough already, haven’t you?”

 

Dean nods, frantic against Cas’ neck, breathes “yes, yes, please”.

 

“Do you want my fingers? Want it the way we talked about earlier?”

 

“Please,” Dean breathes, fingers tightening against Cas’ back. “Yes.”

 

“Good, lay down on your back,” Cas says. 

 

Dean gets on his back, a pillow beneath his ass, while Cas grabs the lube from their nightstand. 

 

He’s watching as Cas unbuttons his shirt, watches him shove it down his arms, but can’t wait any longer than that — so he reaches up and pulls him down against his chest, pants still on.

 

Cas kisses him again, deep and sweet and soft, until Dean turns back into a molten mess of desire, until his arms slip from Cas’ back. Cas moves out of Dean’s space for only a few minutes, to chuck his pants and socks and underwear— but even those few moments are too much.

 

When Cas comes back down, Dean grabs him, pulls him into a hug, murmurs against his skin “I love you, I need you, please, Cas.”

 

Cas peppers more kisses to his mouth, his jaw, and then slowly moves down Dean’s stomach, to his thighs. 

 

Dean wasn’t aware that he’s moving, really, until Cas gently grabs his wandering hands, pulls them from his hair and shoulder and shoves them up above Dean’s head. “Keep them up there for me, sweetheart,” he says, and moves back down to kiss and suck at the soft skin of Dean’s thighs.

 

He leaves a few beautiful marks down there before he moves even a little closer to Dean’s cock, twitching and red and desperate. It’s just soft little kisses, Cas’ lips grazing up and down Dean’s dick. 

 

“Raise your legs,” Cas says after pulling back away. While Dean does so, eyes closed and hands in fists above his head, desperately trying to calm down, Cas must have lubed up his fingers. 

 

Because then, finally, a finger traces over Dean’s hole, ever so slowly. 

 

He traces and circles for ages, until Dean’s begging gets to much and Cas carefully pushes inside of him. He starts to fuck him slow and gentle, giving Dean a little more of his finger with every time he pulls out and moves back inside.

 

And Dean absolutely loses it.

 

He whines, rides down against Cas’ finger as much as possible with his hands still interlocked above his head. “Please,” he breathes. “More, Cas.”

 

“No,” Cas answers, gaze fixed on where Dean is hard and leaking onto his stomach. “No, I don’t think you’re going to get more today.”

 

“Please,” he sobs, and that’s when Cas finger stills. “No, please — don’t stop.”

 

“This is all you get today,” Cas says, face serious, except for the tiny soft smile on his lips. “One finger. You’ll have to come on that.”

 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean whispers, frantic and needy. “Please. I need you to fuck me, please.”

 

Cas hums as he watches him, a thoughtful little frown on his face. “You  _ were  _ very good for me today, that’s true. Do you think you deserve my cock?”

 

“Yes, yes, I was so good. Didn’t touch myself, didn’t come. Been waiting for you all day, Cas, please,” Dean says, and he would have kept rambling on if not for how Cas slips in a second finger and then crooks them both, rubs up against all the right spots and has Dean keening.

 

“You have, it’s true,” Cas whispers, leans down to press kisses against Dean’s chest, his stomach. “You’re right, you deserve more. You were perfect for me.” 

 

Dean keens, high in his throat, and arches up into Cas’ hand again. 

 

“Don’t think I could hold back, anyway,” Cas mumbles when he carefully works in a third finger. “God, I love you so much, Dean, you’re so good for me.”

 

“Mmmh, love you too. Need you,” he says, squeezing around Cas’ fingers. His cock jumps against his stomach, and Dean briefly thinks about reaching down to finally relieve a little bit of this allconsuming pressure, this ache, but then again — he really can’t risk losing Cas’ fingers. Or the promise of his cock. 

 

So he holds onto the sheets above his head, stays as still as possible with his hips desperately jumping up into Cas’ touch. 

 

It takes ages until Cas slowly pulls back out, and even though Dean  _ knows  _ that this is a good thing, that this means Cas will finally fuck him — he can’t help the pathetic little whine that squeezes its way out of his throat at the loss of heat, of this perfect feeling of being full.

 

“I’ve got you,” Cas murmurs, and then he presses his lips to Dean’s mouth in a wet, distracted kiss, as he guides his cock into Dean.

 

They both break away from the kiss to gasp for air against each other’s cheeks, and then Dean can’t control himself anymore and his hands fly down to hold onto Cas’ back, his ass, to pull him all the way in.

 

Cas moans when he bottoms out, low and gravelly, head dropping down against Dean’s collarbone, and Dean feels like he’s floating out of his body with how turned on he is.

 

“Cas,” he gasps. “Cas.”

 

Cas murmurs something indecipherable against his skin in answer and — and then he starts moving, slow rolls of his hips that drive Dean absolutely mad.

 

“Yes, yes. God, Cas, so good,” Dean keens, fingers digging into the muscles of Cas’ back.

 

Cas gains speed, gains momentum, and Dean whines and squirms beneath him in absolute happiness.

 

And just when Dean thinks it can’t get any better, Cas sits up a little and his arms come down to wrap around Dean’s thighs, and then he’s raising Dean’s hips up into the air and grinds into him _ just right _ , and Dean can’t hold back any of the embarrassing noises he makes.

 

He hits Dean’s prostate on every other thrust, turns him into a moaning mess beneath him, and all the while looks way too calm and collected up there. 

 

“I don’t think I can -” Dean sobs, clinging to Cas, moving up into his thrusts. “I don’t think I can hold back much longer, Cas, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Cas breathes, and he sounds goddamn wracked — and it’s such a stark contrast to how he looks that Dean goes an impossible bit weaker in his arms. “You’ve been great, waiting all day. Want you to come all over yourself for me.”

 

And when he manages to keep holding Dean up with one arm and reaches down to take a hold of Dean’s rock-hard dick with the other, that’s it. Dean’s done for. 

 

He sobs out a few desperate words, something like “thank you, oh god, yes, Cas”, and then he can’t hold back anymore. He comes hard, dizzying, all over his stomach and Cas’ hand, gasping for breath, gasping for Cas.

 

He can’t really say what happens after, all he sees is dots dancing before his eyes, all he feels is a lazy, satiated smile spreading over his lips as he closes his eyes.

 

But it can’t be long after that Cas comes, can’t have been more than a handful of thrusts, Dean desperately clenching around Cas’ cock, until Cas loses control. He jerks, erratic and desperate, dick pulsing inside Dean, before he stills with a long, deliciously low groan, pressed deep inside Dean.

 

“Fuck,” he breathes, just before he drops down on top of Dean. And only Cas could be this careful, right after an orgasm, when dropping down on someone with his full weight. It feels a lot more like he’s carefully nuzzling into Dean, fitting into his arms perfectly.

 

“Yeah,” Dean mumbles against his neck. “Yeah, fuck.” He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Cas’ hair, dishevelled and wild and so sexy. “Holy shit. That was so good.”

 

“ _ So _ good,” Cas mumbles back, and he still sounds doped out and far away. “ _ You _ were so good.”

 

Dean snorts, combs his hands through Cas’ hair and down his neck. “Didn’t even do anything. Didn’t even manage to come on your fingers like you wanted me to.”

 

Cas grunts, hand worming its way between them so he can pinch Dean’s thigh.

 

“Hey,” Dean yelps, just as Cas carefully pulls out of him and rolls off. 

 

He’s on his side now, looking at Dean with a stern little frown. “I tell you that you’re good, what do you say?”

 

And fuck Dean can’t do anything when Cas uses that tone. “Thank you,” he murmurs, turning towards Cas and throwing his arm around him, pulling him back against his chest.

 

“You should have seen me at work, I was a goddamn mess because of you. Lucky that I didn’t have any meetings,” Cas chuckles, shuffling even closer, until his lips reach Dean’s jaw.

 

“Yeah? Should have seen me, trying to do laundry with a hard-on,” Dean laughs, and tilts his face until he catches Cas’ lips between his own.

 

“It’s really a shame that I missed that,” Cas muses. “I should have asked you for a few more pictures or videos, to check up on you every now and then. But I knew you’d be good for me,” he murmurs against Dean’s lips, and Dean shivers all over again.

 

“Fuck, I love you,” Dean whispers.

 

Cas arms wrap around him even tighter. “And I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this and would love to read your opinion in a short little comment, maybe :') <3
> 
> You can find a [rebloggable version](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com/post/182485084389/delightful-madness-dean-wakes-up-to-his-phone) of this fic on [Tumblr](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com/) !


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